


Something Unexpected

by thegirlcourageous



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Fluff, I'm trying, M/M, MJ is a Good Bro, Mutual Pining, Ned Is a Good Bro, Peter Parker Feels, Peter Parker is a Mess, Spider-Man Identity Reveal, Super aware I'm not very funny, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Will add tags when I think of some, attempted humor, but hey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2020-03-02 07:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18806710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlcourageous/pseuds/thegirlcourageous
Summary: Harley Keener is spending the summer at the tower. He'd thought this would entail a lot of time spent in the workshop with Tony, not sleeping enough, and it being an overall relaxing summer break away from his home life. What he hadn't anticipated was Peter Parker.Peter wasn't sure what was happening. But he knew one thing for sure, he'd never met anyone quite like Harley. Or ever been quite as tongue-tied. Ned and MJ were going to judge him so hard. Sigh. This was going to be a long summer.And Tony, well, he hadn't stopped laughing since he realized Harley and Peter were crushing on each other. Their awkward exchanges were surprisingly sweet. But there really were only so many times he could watch Harley's flirting and Peter's frankly embarrassing responses. Anyone call a matchmaker?





	1. Chapter 1

This was going to be the best summer of his life. Probably. Most likely. Anyway. It wasn’t often he had the chance to get out of his small town and get a break from his life. His life didn’t suck but it wasn’t ideal. He always felt like he could be doing more for his mom and sister, and honestly, the never-ending small town bullshit and the bullshit people there that had never liked him, well…they didn’t make things better or make him want to stay.

 

So, when the offer to spend the summer at the tower had been dropped in his lap, well, he hadn’t hesitated. This was his chance to get out even if just for a little bit, but most importantly it meant being reunited with Tony. It had been a long time since he’d last seen him, or at least it felt that way. Tony did keep in contact, and, you know, helped with stuff, had even visited a couple of times, but it was always back home, within the safety of the house and the garage.

 

Harley would finally be able to experience Tony Stark in his own world, on his own turf. Be able to see his no doubt amazing lab and workshop. To be able to watch Tony work on something and maybe, if he was really lucky, even work together on something. That would be like a dream come true, to learn from the master up close and everything.

 

Not that he’d really ever voice that out loud. Didn’t make it untrue, just difficult to admit. Feelings were hard pretty much always but voicing them to the only father figure he’d had since his own useless dad had skipped town? Not the easiest thing. Sure, he could talk to people, joke around, rile them up. But yeah, not really the same thing.

 

Either way, that Harley was excited was kind of like saying that the sky was blue. Hell yeah, he was excited, he was practically buzzing with it. He looked down at his watch. Only a little bit longer till they landed, and he could get out of the airport, and make his way to the tower and just breathe again. It had been a long time since he could just breathe.

 

And going there, being there felt like something important. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Something was about to change. On that one thing, Harley was positive.

 

He grinned and looked out the window.

 

Soon.

 

\---

 

“Keener!”

 

Harley whirled around, faced with Happy.

 

“Haven’t seen you in forever, Happy. See the eyebrows grew back nicely.” Harley smirked at the shadow that crossed over Happy’s face, and laughed when he muttered, “Worst few weeks of my life. Couldn’t look May in the face for…” Happy shuddered and looked at Harley.

 

“Despite that unfortunate event” added emphasis on unfortunate, Harley rolled his eyes, “it’s still good to see you kid.” Happy clapped him on the shoulder, smiling. “Just…no repeats of last time.”

 

“Sure thing, Happy.”

 

Happy glanced warily at him, “You know, I’d have more faith in that promise if you weren’t sporting the same mad scientist glint in your eyes as Tony.”

 

“Where’s Tony anyway? I thought he might…” Harley shook his head, it was stupid. Tony was a busy guy; he couldn’t get dejected every time something like this happened.

 

“He got held up. Superhero stuff. Well, Spider-Man stuff, specifically.” Harley’s eyes widened. The Spider-Man? Happy, however, didn’t take any notice of his star stuck expression, and instead moved the conversation to Harley’s luggage, “Is that all you brought? Gimme the bag. We’re going to the car. Need to get a move on.”

 

Harley, on the other hand, was not listening. Was he going to get to meet Spider-Man? That would be pretty cool. And like, the Avengers. He hadn’t even considered this until right now. He’d just been so excited to get to see Tony again, he hadn’t even entertained the thought that he might be able to meet some other real-life superheroes. And maybe, this was of course a big maybe, he’d get to work on their tech. He grinned again; his decision to go to New York for the summer seemed to be the right one.

 

“Kid, you need to stop with the smirking. You’re creeping me out.” A pause and then Happy waved his hand in front of Harley’s face, “You with me?”

 

Harley looked over at the other, eyes shining with excitement, “Of course. Never been better.”

 

\---

 

Pulling up in front of the tower was something else. Avengers headquarters, his brain supplied. Wow, so maybe Harley was a lot more excited about the prospect of superheroes than he’d ever thought he’d be. Apart from Iron Man, of course. Iron Man had always been cool. Now he just needed to figure out how to act cool in front of these people.

 

Fake it till you make, or something stupid like that. Harley sighed. Great start. Good job, idiot.

 

“Earth to Harley, you home?”

 

“Huh?” He turned to face Happy, incomprehension visible on his face. Happy snorted, and gestured to the door, “We’re here. Just go in through the front entrance, and don’t take the main elevator but the one off to right. Hey, are you even listening to me right now? What’s with you teenagers and spacing out? The amount of times Peter just zones out on me is just--”

 

“Peter?” Harley asked uncertainly.

 

“Yeah, Tony’s intern or pseudo adopted kid or whatever you wanna call it. About your age. Real smart kid, but head in the clouds. Saw him walk into a wall the other day.” Happy chuckled.

 

Tony had…adopted a kid?

 

What was that sudden jab in his stomach? Tunnel vision. Shortness of breath. Anxiety.

 

Had he been replaced? Maybe. Harley wouldn’t be surprised. Nobody ever really wanted him around forever. He’d learned that the hard way before. Guess the lesson hadn’t stuck…

 

Happy peered at him, “You two would probably get along.”

 

“Who?”

 

“You and Peter.”

 

Ah, the heavy feeling in his stomach was definitely real. Dammit. He forced a weak smile, “I’ll take your word for it.”

 

Harley reached opened the door, ready to run from this conversation, but most importantly, the ugly feelings that were starting to take hold. This was supposed to be the best summer. And right now, it wasn’t off to a great start.

 

Happy grabbed his arm. “You ok? You’re looking a little—”

 

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. Just tired.”

 

“Alright but you can always talk to me if you want. Just a phone call away.” Happy offered awkwardly. Harley’s lips twitched a little, “Thanks.”

 

“Now, skedaddle. I’ve got places to be. Friday will know once you’re in the building. Just go to Tony’s personal elevator, I repeat, don’t use the main elevator, and she’ll take you where you need to go.”

 

“Thanks, Happy.”

 

“Sure thing.”

 

He excited the car and headed for the tower. He scanned the entrance area, now where was that elevator? Apparently, conveniently placed near the main elevator. Harley hitched the bag further up his arm and headed towards the elevator. Once inside, he was immediately greeted, “Welcome to the tower, Harley.”

 

Harley grinned at the voice, “Why Friday, is that you? Did you miss me?”

 

“Of course. Never a dull moment in your presence, or at least that’s what Boss says. Also, Boss is on his floor, waiting for you. Want me to take you to him?”

 

“Thanks, Fri. That’d be great.”

 

The ride up was quick. And the closer he got to the top, the more nervous he got. But that was ridiculous. Harley didn’t get nervous. He was just. Excited. Yeah, lying to yourself doesn’t work super well. He groaned. He was being ridiculous. Tony had invited him. There was no need to be this unsure now. Whoever this Peter was, he could deal with it. And maybe they’d be friends. Heavy emphasis on maybe. Because Harley didn’t really do friendship. With a personality as abrasive as his, that was kind of to be expected. And he preferred working on projects to being with people most of the time anyway.

The elevator doors opened. And stood before him was Tony Stark in the flesh.

 

“Kid! You made it! How was the trip? Everything went alright, I hope? You hungry? We could order in. And then the workshop. There is so much I want to show you. I think you’ll really liked it.” Tony ushered him out the elevator as he spoke, guiding him to the sofa.

 

Harley ducked his head, hiding his smile. Seemed like maybe he wasn’t the only one excited for this summer. Maybe he didn’t have anything to be worried about. He glanced up at Tony, “Everything’s really good.”

 

Tony beamed.

 

Suddenly, a crash sounded through the apartment. Tony snapped his head in the direction of the sound, cursing under his breath, then, “Friday, report.”

 

“Boss, it’s just Peter. Seems he walked into the bookcase with the wooden figurines. Nothing is broken but it would appear that he’s panicking just the tiniest bit.”

 

Immediately, Harley’s mood dropped. Peter was here? Great.

 

But Tony just laughed. And really, it sounded like maybe Friday was as well.

 

Tony turned to Harley once more, smiling. “I have someone to introduce you to! I think you’ll really like him. His name is—”

 

“Peter. Yeah, Happy mentioned him.”

 

“Oh,” Tony deflated a bit, pouting really. “I was supposed to introduce you two.”

 

Harley really didn’t know what to say to that.

 

But before he had to figure anything out, a door behind him opened, followed by a hesitant rambling voice, “Mr. Stark, sorry. But I-I didn’t break anything…uh, not this time. Unlike last time, with the cups…in the kitchen. Can I just say I’m sorry about that again? And—”

 

“Kid, don’t sweat it.” Tony replied. Then he started waving him over, “There’s someone I want you to meet!”

 

Harley turned around, not really knowing what to expect. Fluffy hair, huge brown eyes, overall adorable everything was definitely not it. He swallowed. This was unexpected.

 

“Um…” The guy’s –no Peter’s– eyes flickered between Tony and Harley as he took a few steps closer to them. He stuck out his hand to Harley, who stared silently at the outstretched hand, his brain not quite keeping up, still dumbstruck by the cute guy that had just like appeared in front of him, almost missing the, “My name is Peter. Peter Parker.”

 

But Harley just continued to stare.

 

And Peter stared back.

 

Slowly, Peter's face turned red.

 

And Harley’s mind short-circuited.

 

This was so not good.

 

He was screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first fanfic I've published, and while that isn't groundbreaking or anything, it is, in a way, a "big" deal for me. Not usually the type to hit the publish button.
> 
> Anyway, hopefully, someone will enjoy this.
> 
> And I'm supposed to be writing on my bachelor essay. So, bye?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some story from Peter's PoV

There was a reason Spider-Man’s identity was kept a secret.

 

Because Peter had already lost too many people.

 

Currently, Mr. Stark, Happy, Ned, and May knew.

 

And now, MJ.

 

Peter pressed his face into his hands. This was getting out of hand. Five people knew. His identity was supposed to be secret. That was literally the whole point of a secret identity. How was he supposed to protect the people he loved this way? He was just one person. Not that Mr. Stark needed protection, but the others were just…normal people. They didn’t have Iron Man suits or superpowers, and while they were smart and could handle themselves in normal situations, he didn’t doubt that, the list of Spider-Man’s enemies kept growing and almost all of them had some sort of enhancement. And there was just no way that May or Ned or MJ could go up against that…Sometimes, even Peter, no, Spider-Man wasn’t strong enough.

 

He rubbed at his eyes, tried to get rid of the burning sensation…This was really not the time to cry. He was supposed to be Spider-Man. People were counting on him to keep it together when they couldn’t. Which apparently was like all the time. Sometimes, he wished that... A sigh escaped. Peter stared blindly at the closet he’d locked himself in after MJ’s confession, considering his options. He was still at school, and even though his friends had long since stopped knocking on the door, he knew they were still out there. He didn’t have enhanced hearing for nothing after all. Every so often a strand of conversation trickled in. And while it was reassuring to know that his friends cared, it also served to remind himself why he’d locked himself in a supply closet at school in a blind panic. Peter hung his head forward, in the process spotting the metal bucket he was sitting on. Christ. He was sitting on a bucket, in a supply closet, by himself, freaking out. Yeah, he really didn’t know how to deal with this mess. He was just going to have to suck it up and call Mr. Stark.

 

He fiddled with his phone, fingers drumming against the screen. He sighed again, swiped open the phone, and made the call. The phone rang, once, twice, three times, before, “Hey, Kid! What’s up?”

 

“Um…”

 

“Something wrong?”

 

“Well…just…You know, there’s this thing. That happened…”

 

“Come on, spit it out. Can’t help you otherwise. I’m assuming that’s why you called?” Mr. Stark’s voice was filled with warmth, and Peter really didn’t want to say what he had to say.

 

“Peter?”

 

“MJ found out I’m Spider-Man!” He blurted out, and then plowed on with “Well, actually, she figured it out herself. Something about being observant? I don’t know, but Mr. Stark, I-I promise I didn’t do it on purpose. I’ll be more careful in the future. It won’t happen again, I swe—”

 

“Breathe, Kid.” Mr. Stark cut him off, then paused, exhaled, and said, “I’m not saying it’s great that another person knows, but if anyone was going to figure it out, I would have bet my money on her.”

 

Mr. Stark sounded tired. Peter grimaced; it was his fault. If he’d just been more careful. Then…then what? Probably nothing. Peter was always messing things up.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Voice small.

 

Too unsure sounding, even to his own ears.

 

“Pete. You don’t have anything to be sorry about. It’ll be alright, we’ll figure this out. Collect your friends and get to the tower. We’ll all have a nice talk about the importance of secret identities and keeping them secret. Deal?”

 

Peter released a shaky breath, “Yeah. Thank you, Mr. Stark. I would really appreciate that.”

 

“See you soon.” And then Mr. Stark hung up.

 

Logically, Peter knew he didn’t have anything to worry about in the secret keeping department. Both Ned and MJ were loyal and good, and they always stuck up for him when he was Peter. He had no doubt they’d be equally as unwavering in their support of Spider-Man. But in a way, that’s what worried him. He didn’t want them getting caught up in this other part of his life, the dangerous part.

 

He really wasn’t ready to lose anyone else.

 

 ---

 

The three friends stood outside the tower, heads back, peering up towards the top.

 

“Dude, I’m so excited right now. I can’t believe we’re going to get to meet the Tony Stark.”

 

Ned flashed him an awestruck grin. Even MJ looked more excited than normal.

 

“Please, don’t make it weird, Ned.” Peter pleaded with his friend, fully knowing that it was most likely a lost cause. “Not that you’re weird, you’re just the right kind of weird, um—”

 

MJ elbowed him on his side, smirking, “Don’t lose your shit, Peter.”

 

“Ouch, that hurt.” He whined, rubbing at his side. MJ scoffed, “I highly doubt that.” She leaned in closer, whispering, “Spider-boy.”

 

Peter’s eyes bugged out, shushing her while at the same time looking around them wildly. “MJ! You can’t say that! Not in public,” He hissed.

 

“Say what?” Ned said, lowering his voice. “And why are we whispering?”

 

“Don’t worry about it. Come on, boys. We can’t keep the billionaire waiting.” And with that she pushed open the doors to the main entrance, striding inside with no hesitation, leaving Peter and Ned to scramble after her.

 

Peter directed them to the elevator –“Tony Stark’s personal elevator” Ned squealed beside him– and stepped inside.

 

“Hello, Peter. Boss and I have missed you at the tower.”

 

“Hello, Miss Friday. Missed you too.”

 

Ned gaped next to him, the awe evident in his voice, “Peter’s friends with an AI. Best. Day. Ever.”

 

“Oh, right. Miss Friday, these are my friends, Ned Leeds, and Michelle Jones.”

 

“Pleasure to meet you both. Peter speaks very highly of you.”

 

Peter blushed, somewhat regretting the introduction. But when he saw how excited Ned was when he replied to Friday, as well as the small genuine smile on MJ’s lips when he’d introduced them as friends, he couldn’t really bring himself to regret anything. Anyway, what was a little embarrassment if his friends were happy?

 

The elevator doors opened, and both Ned and MJ let out gasps. The view from penthouse floor was stunning, and Peter had kind of been expecting their reactions. He chuckled to himself, and began steering his friends out of the elevator, a “Thank you, Miss Friday” thrown over his shoulder.  

 

The smell of coffee was coming from the kitchen. Peter popped his head in, after leaving his friends to explore the area.

 

“Hi, Mr. Stark.”

 

Tony Stark looks up at him, a smile on his face. He rises from where he was sitting on the floor, pieces of a dismantled something littering the space around him, “You made it.” He tugs him into a quick hug, releasing him after a beat.

 

The hugs were a recent development. The first one had happened after a particularly close call during a fight with the villain of the week, where Peter, well, Spider-Man had almost been impaled by a metal arm. It had, of course, been Doctor Octopus, and Peter could swear that he still sometimes heard Mr. Stark mutter darkly about how he was going to break those mechanical arms if it so was the last thing he did. At first, Peter didn’t quite know what to make of the hugs, but he’d quickly clued into this probably being Mr. Stark’s way of showing concern. So, Peter had resolved not to say anything. He didn’t want to make Mr. Stark feel awkward. And honestly, he’d been secretly thrilled at the evidence that Mr. Stark cared about him. So yeah, the hugs were a good thing. Just new.

 

“Where are the friends?” Mr. Stark questions, peeking his head out of the kitchen. A shriek followed by a snort, and Peter knows that Ned and MJ had spotted Mr. Stark.

 

“Sir, it’s such an honor to meet you. I love your work.”  
  
Tony Stark chuckles, and steps into the living room. “Hi, Ned. How’s it going?” Ned makes a sound Peter’s never heard before and he looks over worriedly at his friend, but Ned is just gawking at Mr. Stark with a silly struck expression on his face, and Peter has to bite back a giggle. Yeah, he remembers the first time he met Mr. Stark. He’d been a bit star struck too.

 

“And MJ, caused some chaos today, have we?”

 

For a moment, MJ looks almost nervous, hesitance visible in her eyes. And then Mr. Stark’s smiles kindly at her, and it melts away, “Perhaps. But I thought it was time I told him the truth. That I’d figured it out.”

 

“By the way, how did you figure it out?” Mr. Stark questions.

 

“Yeah, actually…” Peter chimes in.

 

Mr. Stark glances over at him, an eyebrow raised in obvious question, “You didn’t ask?”

 

“I was goi—”

 

“It’s my fault. I freaked him out and he hid in a supply closet at school.” Mr. Stark’s eyes find him again, and Peter can tell that they’re going to talk about this later. Great. “But really, it wasn’t hard. Though, I think it probably helped a lot that we’re friends. Just, small pieces of evidence and coincidences slotted into place and the only possible explanation was that Peter is Spider-Man.”

 

MJ shrugs, “Like I said. Not hard.”

 

Peter can tell she’s trying to look nonchalant about this whole thing but that she’s feeling awkward with them all staring at her. But really, he’s kind of impressed. She’d pieced together random moments and figured out he was Spider-Man, just like that? Judging by Mr. Stark’s muttered, “What’s with all these smart teenagers…”, Peter guesses that he too thinks that MJ deductive skills were pretty impressive. Especially, since it seemed like she didn’t have much concrete evidence of any kind to go on.

 

Ned is the first to say anything, and obviously, his enthusiasm level is high, “Wow, MJ, that’s so cool! Wait, how long did you know?” A pause. “Man, the only reason I found out was because he crawled in through the window when I was waiting for him in his room. Now, I’m not sure I would have figured it out.” He turns to Peter, eyes wide, “You would have told me though? Because having a guy in the chair is very important. You never know when you need backup. And you wouldn’t have given this job to anyone else? Right?”

 

And Peter is helpless to fight the laugh that bubbles up inside of him. Because you know what? He loves his friends. “No, Ned. You’re the only guy in the chair I’ll ever need.”

 

He turns to MJ with a smile, “And in a way I’m glad you figure it out. I didn’t like lying to you. Both you and Ned are really important to me. And it felt like we were leaving you out, and I know what being left out feels like, and I didn’t want to be the person to make you feel like that but…” And Peter averts his eyes, silence filling the space between them. How is he supposed explain how he scared is that he’ll fail them?

 

That he’d failed Uncle Ben and now, he’s dead. But he hasn’t told anybody about that. It’s the one truth that he can’t seem to get out, where the words just won’t come. Because how he can explain? There are no words that will ever absolve him of the guilt. Instead, he’s just let it grow and fester in his heart because sometimes feelings can grow so big that there are no words that can accurately explain them. That there are aching parts of his soul will that will never heal, that chafes painfully, a constant reminder of what he’s lost.

 

“What I think Peter is trying to say,” Mr. Stark begins, a careful glance at Peter before he continues, “is that while being a hero can certainly be fantastic, the people close to them always run the risk of getting hurt. Getting hurt yourself is one thing, it’s kind of part of the job description, but seeing someone you love, seeing them get hurt in your place because you weren’t fast enough or smart enough or good enough. Well, you feel like that’s on you. And it’s not a good feeling.”

 

Peter can almost physically feel both Ned and MJ staring at him, but he can’t bring himself to look their way. He doesn’t want to see whatever expressions they have on their faces, doesn’t want to know how they reacted. Because everything Mr. Stark said is right. When you put on the suit, danger becomes normal. And something everyone must learn the hard way it seems is that just because you take off the suit, it doesn’t mean the dangers go away. They have a nasty habit of following, of clinging to your person, infecting every part of your life.

 

Peter should know, after all, he’s one of those who had to learn this the hard way.

 

“Peter don’t cry!” is all he hears before Ned flings himself at him, hugging him tightly. And then MJ is there, and Ned puts an arm around her as well, and then all three of them are squished together, and Peter registers that yes, he is crying, followed by the realization that Ned is crying too, and that maybe even this is true for MJ.

 

And then, he feels a hand in his hair, and he knows that it’s Mr. Stark. And this is when the sobbing really starts. Suddenly, every pent-up feeling comes rushing out. Not with words because he’s not ready for that yet. And he’s sure none of them know exactly why he’s crying like this or what they can really do to help. But it doesn’t matter. Because they’re there, showing that they care. And in that moment, it is enough.

 

\--- 

 

It had been an hour since Ned, MJ, and he had retreated to Peter’s room. Mr. Stark had said it was convenient that he had his own room in the tower, but Peter knew it was really just another way that Mr. Stark showed that he cared. It was apparent that Mr. Stark didn’t always know how to say things with words, but if you payed attention, it was obvious he let his actions and gestures speak for him. And Peter did pay attention. And he counted himself lucky that he was someone Tony Stark considered important.

 

MJ poked him in the ribs, effectively bringing him out of his thoughts, “You’ve been quiet for a while now.”

 

Peter looked over at his two friends, his best friends. Who hadn’t judged him when he’d cried, or made him feel bad. That had just been there. Holding him as he fell apart. And he just felt stupidly grateful that he’d found them.

 

“Thank you. I was just thinking…I’m really glad you’re both here, that you’re in my life, you know?”

 

Ned visibly brightened but there was still a hint of unhappiness lingering, “Peter, you and MJ are like the bestest friends I’ve ever had. And I always thought that you were really great way before Spider-Man. You’ve always been important to me and that’s never gonna change, I swear. And…” He hesitated, “I’m sorry I only focused on the awesome stuff that comes with being a superhero.”

 

Ned hung his head in shame. But before Peter could reply, MJ said, “You two dorks are my best friends too. And I’m not the type to be all sappy, so I’m just going to say it. I’m really glad you both wanted to be friends with me. And also…I’ll take Spider-Man’s secret to the grave.”

 

“To the grave.” Ned repeated. Both of them looked at Peter with matching serious expressions, their conviction and loyalty evident to anyone who so much as glanced at them. The weight of their words unmistakable. A promise that meant something.

 

How could it be possible to love two people this much? Peter wasn’t sure but the warmth spreading in his chest was comforting.

 

“Are we about to make a blood pact, you guys?” Peter tried to joke.

 

Neither of them said anything, instead Ned stuck out his hand and MJ put hers on top of his. They both looked at Peter expectantly, until he too added his hand.

 

“To the grave.”

 

“To the grave.”

 

“To the grave.”

 

\---

 

When Peter eventually ventured out of his room to go see what Mr. Stark was doing, the first thing he did was walk straight into the bookcase around the corner from his room. Admittedly, he hadn’t been paying attention, still a little shaken by his friends’ declaration.

 

Damn that spider sense for not working when he actually needed it.

 

The bookcase had sort of exploded all over the corridor, and while nothing had broken, thank god, the figurines and books scattered across the floor made a small part of him panic just a little bit. Shifting indecisively from foot to foot because what was he supposed to pick up first? The books, the figurines? The random collection of sea shells that he’d just spotted?

                                         

Ned and MJ came crashing out of his room, game faces on, but stopped short when confronted with the mess he’d made. And then they both laughed. Which, you know, rude.

 

Peter looked up at the ceiling, and asked, “Miss Friday, where is Mr. Stark?” Praying that she would say workshop. Instead, the reply came, confirming Peter’s suspicion, “Boss is still in the living room. And before you ask, yes, he heard the sound. I’ve already reported to him.”

 

Peter groaned, an embarrassed flush spreading across his face. Why was today testing him like this?

 

“Go, we’ll pick it up.” Ned offered, nodding towards the living room door, and while MJ looked like she most definitely didn’t want to clean up the mess before her, she too nodded and said with a sigh, “Run along. We’ll be with you in a second.”

 

As much as Peter didn’t want to go through the door, he decided to confront it. He hadn’t actually broken anything this time, unlike the very unfortunate accident that had occurred with the cups. And Mr. Stark had already witnessed one emotional breakdown today, it’s not like it could get any worse.

 

But Peter’s wrong. He’s so wrong. Because, of course, he is.

 

Because sitting next to Mr. Stark on the sofa is a blond, beautiful his mind adds before he can shove the thought far away, boy. Peter looks between them, unsure. His one saving grace is that May had always stressed being polite, so he walks over to the pair, almost as if on autopilot. If anything, he’s proud of the fact that he gets any words out at all.

 

In the distance, he can hear Ned and MJ make their way back into the living room. And oh. They’ll totally be able read him like an open book. MJ always did say he had a very expressive face. She’d know the instant she saw his flushed cheeks. And Ned…Well, he’d been there every step of the way on the journey that was the ill-fated crush he’d had on Liz. He’d also know the signs.

 

But Peter couldn’t even worry about that right now because the other boy was still just staring at him. Not saying a thing, not taking his hand that was still hovering between them.

 

Peter flushed a darker, more noticeable shade of red, feeling very foolish. Of course, he chastised himself, of course, the beautiful boy didn’t want to talk to Peter Parker. Peter Parker that walked into bookcases that his frankly unreliable spider sense should but didn’t warn him about. And with his average looks, his floppy hair, and his punny science t-shirts he knew he didn’t scream attractive or cool. He willed himself not to look down, instead trying desperately to remember what he’d even put on this morning before school. He had no idea; he could literally be wearing anything right now. But whatever it was, he was sure he’d embarrassed himself in some way.

 

He began lowering his now clammy hand self-consciously. He didn’t know what the guy saw when he looked him, but it couldn’t be anything good if the radio silence was anything to go off. Of that, if nothing else, he was sure.

 

It made sense.

 

What didn’t make sense, however, was the hand that was suddenly grasping his. The smile on the other boy’s face and his words, “I’m Harley Keener.”

 

Before Peter could get any words out, the door that lead to the corridor where the bedrooms were, was thrown wide open, and Ned and MJ stepped through it. He turned his head towards them, Harley still holding his hand, and like he'd thought, MJ immediately clocked his expression. She raised an eyebrow, gesturing towards their still clasped hands with a quick flick of her eyes. If possible, Peter turned even redder. The smirk on her face said it all. Ned took a few seconds longer, but he too eventually realized, and said under his breath, so low that only MJ and Peter could actually hear him, “Woah, you’ve got it bad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kind words on the last chapter. It means a lot.


	3. Chapter 3

When Peter had called earlier that day, it hadn’t occurred to him that the whole situation would devolve quite the way it had. One crying teenager was already out of his comfort zone but three? Tony had felt very out of his depth at that development.

 

When they had practically fled back to Peter’s room, all three of them looking somewhat embarrassed at their collective emotional outburst, Tony had plonked into the nearest chair, and he hadn’t moved since.

 

That had been an hour ago. And he was getting thirsty.

 

He heaved himself off the chair and set off towards the kitchen. As he filled a glass with water, everything else required effort he didn't really have at the moment, he figured that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check in on the kids.

 

“Friday, how are they doing? Not still crying, I hope.” Tony raised the glass to his lips.

 

“I can happily announce that the crying has indeed stopped, Boss. But they are engaging in something I believe they referred to as a blood pact. I don't believe there is any cause for alarm though, as no blood has actually been spilled,” came the reply.

 

Tony spluttered, then looked down at the floor. There was water everywhere. It was a mess, but it would have to wait.

 

“Did you just say the words ‘blood pact’?” He asked, incredulously.

 

“Indeed, I did.” His AI's reply sounded too amused.

 

There was a pause. Laughter bubbled up Tony’s throat until he couldn’t physically hold it inside of him any longer. He had to grab on to the counter to keep from sliding down to the floor, and into the puddle of water at his feet.

 

“Ridiculous,” he wheezed out, “Absolutely ridiculous.”

 

He wiped at his eyes, but the joyful tears kept running down his cheeks, soaking into his shirt. The three of them were absolutely ridiculous, completely so, yet there was a warmth spreading in his chest. A smile tugging at his lips.

 

Who knew that Tony Stark would be so soft-hearted? Well, Rhodey and Pepper and Happy. Probably Natasha too. They knew. They’d always known, and that was what mattered. However, he was sure his anti-fan club would have a shock induced group heart attack if they could see him now.

 

Let them. Those people didn’t care, they never tried to see past the bravado and the overconfidence. They only saw what they wanted to see when they looked at him.

 

And Tony?

 

Tony had more important people to care about.

 

 ---

 

Something about the way Harley introduced himself, the way he’d said his name niggled at Tony. There was something he wasn’t seeing and for the life of him, he couldn’t put his finger on it.

 

He looked over at Peter and…

 

Oh. _Oh_.

 

This was going to be interesting. And amusing. Terribly, terribly amusing. Did that make him a terrible person? Undoubtedly.

 

He studied the two teenagers. Peter looked like a tomato. And from the way he was fidgeting, it would only stand to reason that he knew it too. Heh.

 

He looked back at Harley. And he froze.

 

The Harley Keener he’d known for so long now it felt like an eternity didn’t act like this. He didn’t beat around the bush and he wasn’t the type to be overly nervous.

 

And he most certainly didn’t look this hesitant. His face betrayed nothing but the kid’s eyes…They were telling a different story. There was something so vulnerable about the way he was looking at Peter and it near broke Tony’s heart. In the boy, he could see the same eyes that had stared back at him in the mirror so many times before. When the hurt was impossible to keep hidden inside, hidden behind layers and layers of walls, it was always those eyes that came out. Betraying him. The eyes always showed what he didn’t want anyone else to see, that there were things that were impossible to shrug off, things that just lingered and hurt. That sometimes he was scared too.

 

And then, Harley smiled. Not the usual grin or smirk that Tony had grown used to. No, a genuine one. A small smile that seemed to chase away the demons in his eyes. Leaving behind someone who didn’t need to be so guarded. Harley feeling safe enough to lower his guard, that was something Tony could get used to.

 

And Peter was a good kid. The best kid, really. There was no doubt in Tony’s mind that Harley’s heart would be safe with Peter.

 

And Peter… God knows he needed good things in his life too. He was shouldering too much at such a young age. Things that he shouldn’t have to deal with.

 

But Tony understood. The want to protect wasn’t easy to shake. And heroes had responsibilities. There was an almost undeniable sense of duty to help. And it didn’t matter if it was fair or not, it just was.

 

Peter could use someone like Harley. Maybe he was an arrogant little shit sometimes but he was loyal to a fault. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for someone he loved.

 

Well, that last one was definitely applicable to both of them. Honestly, they might just be perfect for each other. He couldn’t believe he’d never even considered it before. Tony chuckled and once again tuned into the conversation in front of him.

 

“I wouldn’t mess with him either.” Harley chuckled.

 

Peter’s eyes widened, stammering out a confused “W-what?”

 

Harley pointed at his t-shirt, and read out what it said, “Don’t have an argument with PI. Why? Because I’m irrational.”

 

And Tony almost wished he’d had a camera ready for the exact moment Peter registered that they were talking about his shirt and about the godawful pun on it. The embarrassed regret that seemed to be pouring off of him in waves said more than any reply possible could.

 

But Harley just focused on Peter with that little helplessly smitten smile still on his face, even as Peter averted his eyes, looking for lack of a better ways to phrase it like he was on fire.

 

Ah, to be young. While Tony didn’t much miss his teenage years, had enough bad memories connected with that part of his life to ever really feel the need to go back, he couldn’t deny that there was something unbearably sweet about the interaction between Harley and Peter.

 

Plans were already starting to form in his mind because there was no way he wasn’t going to meddle. Plus, he couldn’t give up the chance to tease the two teenagers. Rhodey would probably tell him he was being childish. But Tony was sure he could sway Rhodey to join him on the dark side and get him to help with Tony's matchmaking plot. After all, his best friend always had a soft-spot for a good love story.

 

MJ and Ned were still standing by the door, amused smiles on their faces, matching mischievous glints in their eyes. It would seem that Tony wasn’t the only one who had noticed this thing between Peter and Harley.

 

Yeah. This was going to be fun.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been four days since Harley arrived at the tower and he hadn’t seen Peter even once in that time. Which might have been a blessing in disguise because Harley wasn’t sure what he would actually say to him. It was all a bit nerve-racking, if Harley was being honest with himself. And he wasn’t always that good at being honest with himself. Old habits die hard and everything.

 

He was sat in the living room space, idly flicking the channels on the tv, the beginnings of soggy cereal sitting in a bowl on the coffee table.

 

It was so quiet, his attempt at filling up the space with sound from the tv clearly not working.

 

There was a type of silence Harley adored, where the rest of the world sort of fell away and all that was left was the project he was working on and himself. In those moments, he welcomed the silence. The silence meant something good.

 

It was the other silence that he didn’t like. The one that just made him feel alone. Unwanted.

 

Harley leaned back against the sofa cushion, gliding down until he was more lying down on the sofa than actually sitting on it.

 

He sighed. Not for the first time that morning, Harley wondered when Tony would wake up. They had stayed up quite late last night, working in the lab. They had been working on…something. He wasn’t so sure on the details anymore, last night had mostly morphed into some kind of sleep deprived blur of events where all he really remembered was snippets of information. Like, they’d definitely talked about Spider-Man at some point. Maybe something about his suit? It would be just the kind of thing Harley would do, talk all starry-eyed about some superhero’s suit. And Spider-Man definitely had a cool suit, so he couldn't really be blamed here for his one-track mind. Or his rant on the type of upgrades he’d add to the suit. Sure, the suit was cool but it wasn't perfect, nothing ever was. Improvements were always necessary. Learning, adapting, well, it could be the one thing standing between you and death. Harley had watched Tony rebuild and rethink the Iron Man suit enough times to know that the work was never truly finished.

 

And it wasn’t even like he’d met Spider-Man. He hadn’t waxed poetry about the suit to the hero’s face. Yet.

 

So, he had nothing to be embarrassed about. Probably wouldn’t meet Spider-Man at all during his visit.

 

It wasn’t like he’d seen much of anyone. Or met anyone for that matter.

 

When he brought this up with Tony, the man had stilled for a moment, and then shrugged, sending Harley a fleeting smile that looked anything but relaxed. A grimace really. It was pretty clear that Tony was going for nonchalance. Unfortunately for him, Harley was well versed in the art of bullshit. He’d caught every nervous tick, every uncertain frown, every attempt at misdirection. Every lie.

 

“Oh, you know. They come and go.” He scratched absentmindedly at his goatee, “Probably out on a mission.” He’d paused, eyes not meeting Harley’s, “And it’s not like they have to tell me anything.” This last part had been said very quietly, so quietly in fact that Harley wasn’t sure Tony actually meant for him to hear it. Which had raised some major red flags.

 

Tony had turned back to his work, tinkering with something that looked vaguely like it belonged on the Iron Man suit. Harley hadn’t asked. Something about the suddenly tense atmosphere in the room made it difficult to get the words out. And the lab was supposed to be a safe space, one where outside, real-life problems could be shut out and ignored, and the joy of building, creating instead could take its place.

 

But still, it was all very weird. He’d always thought the Avengers were a group, a unit. Or at least, that’s how it had always looked from the outside. How they’d been presented to the world. However, now that he was allowed to glimpse behind the curtains, see how things really worked on the inside, Harley wasn’t so sure that was the case.

 

Because of course, there had been that time in Germany. That time where something had gone down. The fight was infamous. And not only because it had been heroes against heroes but because no one knew exactly what had happened. All ‘normal’ people really knew was that it had happened. Harley had meant to ask Tony about that as well, but the one time he’d tried, Tony had blanched, and his shoulders had hunched inwards at a visibly painful angle. In that moment, it had looked as if the only thing holding his mentor together had been willpower.

 

So, Harley just dropped it. He could and certainly would find out about it one way or another but not from Tony. Harley was many things, had been called many things, many mean things, by people that either didn’t care about him or even knew what they were talking about, and as a result, he knew how to be cruel, how to really dig at someone until all their insecurities and flaws and dirty laundry had been painfully and excruciatingly revealed. Everyone had something that made them tick, something that hurt.

 

But that was just the thing, he didn’t want to be cruel. Harley had a choice, and he was going to chose not to hurt Tony Stark.

 

He sighed. The likelihood that he was about to be dragged into some sort of superhero drama shit show was becoming more likely by the second. Tony hadn’t said anything. Tony never said anything. But Harley wasn’t blind or stupid. The man hadn’t really needed to say anything for him to know. Something about the team wasn’t working like it once had, like it should. There was some cog out of place, something that was preventing them from functioning as a well-oiled machine.

 

Something that he couldn’t see yet, yet being the significant word here, was making a terrible, jarring, screeching metal sound. An orchestra filled with broken instruments where no one was playing the same tune at the same time would have created a better sound.

 

And Harley would be damned if he didn’t try to fix it. Fixing things was his forte, what he’d been put on this earth to do. It was the only thing he was really good at, that he took pride in. That didn’t mark him as a failure.

 

Neither Tony nor the other Avengers would even know what had hit them. Harley had arrived and he was going to get to the bottom of whatever was going on.

 

 ---

 

Something about the way Tony was smiling at him was rubbing him the wrong way. There was a gleeful quality to it and Harley was not falling for it. It had all the makings of a trap. Also, the way he kept glancing down at this phone was just further evidence. The occasional cackle was also particularly unnerving.

 

The whole situation didn’t exactly inspire Harley with any type of confidence that he would escape it unscathed.

 

“What?” Harley finally forced out; teeth gritted.

 

Tony turned to him slowly, the grin plastered on his face taking on a more maniacal edge. 

 

Yup. Definitely a trap.

 

“What? I didn’t say or do anything.”

 

Harley sighed. “It’s not what you’ve done. It’s what you’re going to do.”

 

“You sound like Pepper right now,” Tony scoffed.

 

“Well, somebody has to be the voice of reason.”

 

“You wound me, kid. I’m plenty reasonable.”

 

“Ha! I don’t know how you can honestly say that to my face when I distinctly remember that time with the—”

 

“Most of the time. I didn’t say always.” Tony hurriedly interrupted, hands raised in surrender.

 

“Yeah, ok. Sure. You didn’t say always. I’ll give you than one.”

 

“Exactly! I’m glad you—” Tony began.

 

“But you wanna know what I think?” Harley looked expectantly at Tony, and the older man reluctantly nodded, “This whole conversation right now? Bullshit. Of the highest degree.”

 

“Ok, you’re sounding like Rhodey now.” Tony narrowed his eyes in what at first glance seemed to be annoyance but if one looked more closely, a poorly hidden spark of amusement was visible in Tony’s eyes, “Are they giving you lessons now, kid? Is that what’s going on? Is this their new way of ganging up on me? Because I will not tolerate this in my own house. I will not submit to this new scheme, mark my words!”

 

Harley snorted, “You’re so unbelievably dramatic.”

 

“Dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow!” came the affronted reply.

 

“First of all, did you just quote Mushu at me? Because when did that even become a thing from you? What memo did I miss? And secondly, they don’t need to give me lessons on this. You see, I’m plenty capable and smart on my own.” He said, tapping at his temple with index finger.  
  
Tony smiled and clapped him on the shoulder, “Damn straight, kid.”

 

Harley grinned.

 

The phone went off again, and with it, Tony’s smirk returned full force, while Harley’s grin morphed into a glare.

 

As much as he looked up to the man, it was difficult to remember that in moments like these. His infuriating smirk always proved to be a particularly sore spot for Harley. The amount of times he had lost against that smirk. As he was contemplating chucking a nearby pencil at his mentor, the door to the lab opened, revealing a rather disheveled looking Peter.

 

The pen would apparently stay on the table.

 

Harley glanced at Tony and the self-satisfied smirk adorning his stupid face.

 

“Peter! What a pleasant surprise!” Tony exclaimed, moving to embrace the other boy.

 

Peter’s face scrunched up with puzzlement, “But Mr. Stark, you asked me to come ov—”

 

Tony raised his voice, cutting off Peter with a loud, “So, how was school?” But the damage was already done. Harley sent the back of Tony’s head another scathing glare, willing the traitor to turn around. Obviously, Tony did no such thing, talking a mile a minute at a visibly bewildered Peter, who to his credit was rolling with Tony’s absurd rambling.

 

The worst part was that he probably though he was being so smooth. But two could play that game.

 

“Oh, hey Peter! Fancy seeing you here.” He raised his hand in greeting, refusing to be caught off guard by whatever Tony was planning.

 

The answering blush did nothing good for Harley’s heart. At this rate, he wouldn’t even be surprised if his heart’s rapid beating was visible through his shirt. That would be just his luck really.

 

Ok, so the key was to appear cool even if he was freaking out just a little bit on the inside.

 

“Y-yeah, hi.” Peter replied with a little wave of his hand.

 

This was a lost cause. Even his nervous stuttering was adorable.

 

“How’s your day going so far?” Harley asked. Good start. Maybe a little generic. At least he was being polite, getting words out. Right? No. Harley was just a massive loser and he was just going to have to accept that.

 

Peter’s eyes darted from Harley to Tony and back to Harley. He licked his lips.

 

“It’s been pretty good. Not too much homework since summer’s coming up so that’s…” he paused, seemingly lost for an appropriate word, eventually settling on, “…nice.” The immediate grimace that followed the use of the word nice was more endearing than Harley ever thought possible.

 

Harley was quickly coming to the realization that maybe he had some life reevaluations to do because this was ridiculous. Actually, strike that. Peter was the ridiculous one, everything about him was, and Harley shouldn’t be held accountable for the sudden warmth in his chest when the other boy did, well, anything.

 

If his sister could only see him now, she would be in a crumbled heap on the floor, convulsing with laughter, gasping for breath, tears streaming down her face.

 

Suddenly, Harley was immensely grateful that she wasn’t. He always missed his sister but yeah, he was glad this little crush was still his secret for the moment. He wasn’t sure he could handle someone else knowing.

 

“Tell me about it. Homework is so far from being my favorite thing about school.” Small talk about a relatable subject was definitely safe territory? Check. Not explicitly revealing that there were a lot of other things that he actually hated about going to school? Another check.

 

Or so Harley thought, forgetting that Peter was not the only other person in the room.

 

Tony turned to him, brow raised, “Harley, quick question. You’re still in high school, right? Correct?” Tony continued without waiting for an answer, “Ok, so one more question. Shouldn’t you also still have school then, since, you know, summer break hasn’t started?”

 

Harley’s grinned, baring his teeth in a smile his sister always said made him look a little bit dangerous, “Maybe.”

 

“I’m not sure ‘maybe’ is an adequate answer. Spill.”

 

“Let’s just say I started the summer break a little bit earlier than everyone else.”

 

“So, you’re skipping then, is that what you’re telling me?” The look on Tony’s face was definitely disappointment.

 

“Sorry, my bad.” Harley rolled his eyes, suddenly feeling very defensive about the whole situation, “Didn’t think Mr. Rules-don’t-apply-to-me would necessarily have a problem with it. Or care.” His voice had also taken on a particularly sulky quality, and if he hadn’t been so committed to looking calm and aloof in front of Peter, Harley was sure the wince would have shown on his face. Dammit, it was not cool to act like this in front of a cute boy. Didn’t matter if he felt backed into a cornered.

 

“I mean, it’s not even like the school cares or anything. If anything, they’re probably glad I’m not there.” Harley mumbled.

 

Tony’s left eye twitched.

 

“What was that? Actually, you know what? Don’t answer that. Instead answer me this because I’m not sure I heard you correctly. What does that even mean, that the school wouldn’t care?” His voice was like steel.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Harley tried to evade, glancing at Peter, who looked incredibly uncomfortable to be listening in on their conversation, “Just drop it.”  
  
“Drop it? Not on your life! Because actually, an even greater idea just occurred to me. I’m just going to sic Pepper on them. They’ll never even know what hit them!” Tony angrily grabbed at his phone, fingers flying over the screen. Undoubtably, messaging Pepper. Which was not necessary. Harley could manage things himself. He didn’t need someone to save him. No one ever had before, so why start now?

 

The man was impossible. Completely impossible.

 

“Can you please just drop it?” Harley shouted, crossing his arms.

 

“I don’t think so!” Tony shouted back but he did stop typing.

 

“Can we at least talk about it later?” At Tony’s unyielding expression, Harley motioned towards Peter with his head, “In private?” Tony’s eyes flickered to Peter, who at this point had retreated as close to the door as he possibly could.

 

“Oh, don’t mind me,” he chuckled uncertainly when he noticed they were both looking his way, “I can always just come back?” He motioned with his thumb over his shoulder to the door.

 

Tony’s anger melted away, and he just looked tired. Seeing the tired expression, Harley felt something that could only be guilt festering in the pit of stomach. Because he’d put that look there. Why couldn’t he just do even one thing right?

 

“Don’t be silly, Pete,” Tony said.

 

“Yeah, stay,” Harley added, mostly because it seemed like the appropriate thing to say.

 

Peter still looked uncertain.

 

The silence in the lab stretched out between them, lingering for an uncomfortably long time. Peter had begun to fidget, and Harley found his gaze wandering from the incessant tapping of Peter’s right foot to the exit behind him.

 

Would it be super awkward if Harley tried to leave?

 

Yeah, probably. But this silent game they all seemed to be playing was killing him.

 

He really hated the silence. The way it would consume and belittle and break him.

 

And still no one in the room said a word.

 

Suddenly, Tony clapped his hands together and exclaimed loudly, “Come on, boys! Let’s go get dinner!”, and both Harley and Peter jumped.

 

To Tony’s face Harley could pretend all he wanted that he was annoyed. But secretly? Harley was relieved.

 

So incredibly relieved.

 

The silence hadn’t gotten him this time either.

 

\--- 

 

Later that night, long after Peter had left, when only Tony and Harley were still awake, Tony had turned to him on the sofa, lightly bumping their shoulders.

 

“It was because of Peter.”

 

“Peter?” Harley parroted back; not sure what Tony was trying to say.

 

“You asked me why I was quoting a Disney movie.”

 

Right. Harley had already forgotten about that.

 

“Ever since I started getting to known him, properly getting to know him, you know, he’s just made my life better.”

 

“I’m not sure I follow.”

 

“What I’m trying to say is that he’s a good kid. He’s saved me so many times, and he doesn’t even know it. And he’s done it by just being himself. Because Peter is always kind. And I’m not even exaggerating when I say always. He’s shown me that it’s possible to spread so much good by doing just the smallest of things. And slowly but surely, he’s made a permanent place in my heart, you know? God, this sounds so sappy,” Tony said, dragging a hand over his face.

 

Then, a chuckle escaped, followed by, “Can’t even tell you how many times we’ve watched some of these Disney movies.”

 

Harley smiled, “Yeah? What do you have, like, mandatory Disney movie nights?”

 

“Hey! Don’t let Peter hear you joke about this, it’s serious business.”

 

“I’m sure.”

 

“Seriously, the kid seems to be on some sort of mission though what the mission is exactly remains unclear. All I know is that it appears to involve all of the Disney movies.”

 

They settled back on the sofa in companionably silence, matching grins on their faces.

 

Minutes passed and then Tony cleared his throat before saying, “You know that I’ll always have your back, right? And that you can always talk to me?”

 

Harley fixed his gaze on spot on the wall, not trusting himself to look at Tony without crying as he replied, “I know.”

 

His voice sounded so small.

 

“I know I haven’t always been the most reliable and the old me would probably have chalked it up to having some really shitty bad luck the last couple of years. Or you know, my whole life. But I don’t want to do that. Just because things have majorly sucked doesn’t mean I can’t turn it into something good, right? That’s what Peter taught me. So, this is me, saying you can count on me. That I want you to count on me.”

 

A tear rolled down Harley’s cheek, completely unbidden.

 

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The update is finally ready! After a lot of waffling around... Hopefully, some of you will still want to continue on despite my recent lack of updates.
> 
> The end is not yet here.


	5. Chapter 5

_A tender expression. Crinkles around green eyes. A happy smile that lights up the room. A warm hand holding his._

_The other’s mouth is moving but the words don’t reach his ears. Instead, a persistent buzzing sound is all that Peter can hear. The image before him begins to lose focus, and though he reaches out his hand his fingers close around nothing._

_He’s falling, falling, falling… Being pulled backwards into a massive black hole. The air whooshing around him, his surroundings growing darker by the second. The sound intensifies, reaching an almost unbearable crescendo. Peter tries to cover his ears but finds that he can’t move his arms._

_The panic begins to set in but before it can properly take root, he’s slammed into an unyielding surface._

 

Peter startled awake. 

 

“Ow.”

 

So, he had definitely fallen out of bed. And landed on his back. He sat up, rubbing at his unruly bedhead. A sound made him look up, only to see May standing in the doorway leading into his room, a raised eyebrow.

 

For about a minute neither of them said a word, locked in a staring contest that Peter knew could last indefinitely.

 

Unsurprisingly, Peter cracked first, “I fell out of bed.” He smiled sheepishly at his aunt.

 

“Yes, I can see that.” The eyebrow had not lowered.

 

Peter rubbed at his eyes. Hopefully, if he stayed quiet, May would just ignore it.

 

No such luck.

 

“Peter,” she said, “I can’t help noticing that you’ve been acting, how should I put it? A bit off the last couple of weeks.”

 

“What do you mean?” He replied, his eyes widening. Ok, so his voice was definitely a little higher than usual. Dammit.

 

“Peter.” May was quite clearly not buying the innocent act.

 

In for a penny, in for a pound. Though Peter had always thought that idiom was a little weird. They didn’t even use pounds here. Then again, maybe this was one of those things everyone was always telling him he didn’t need to think about so much.

 

“We talked about this. It’s important to be honest.” May said, waiting expectantly.

 

“It’s nothing,” Peter began, but quickly changed his mind once he caught sight of May’s expression. She had this look on her face like she wasn’t messing around. So, instead of continuing with the next part of the lie, he looked down at his hands and said slowly, the words coming out reluctantly, “I don’t know. Recently, it just feels like my…” He paused, unsure what to say next, “my powers are...”

 

“Yes?” May coaxed.

 

God, this was more difficult than expected. He felt like a balloon slowly filling with air, the words trapped inside of him with the air. The longer he hesitated, the more air had filled the balloon, and the harder it was to force the words out past all of that air. He took a steadying breath. Or what he hoped was a steadying breath anyway.

 

“Sometimes it feels like they’re not working,” he said, the words rushing out of him all at once. It seemed that the balloon had burst. Peter gulped, slowly raising his eyes to look at his aunt.

 

May now had both eyebrows raised and she was leaning closer.

 

“That’s doesn’t sound good. That sounds dangerous, Peter.”

 

“Not more than usual?” He tried, shrugging.

 

The look on May’s face told him that was the wrong thing to say.

 

“Isn’t this something you should talk to Stark about? Maybe you can have Dr. Banner take a look at you?” May asked, the uncertainty evident in her voice. Her face always did this thing when she was worried; mouth in a thin line, her nose scrunched up, eyes filled with fear.

 

Peter hated that face. Every guilty feeling and memory he’d ever had had a way of rushing back to the forefront of his mind when faced with his aunt’s worry. That face always made him think of Uncle Ben. He pushed the memories trying to surface as far from his mind as he possibly could. That was not something he wanted to think about now. Or ever.

 

“Yeah?” he instead answered because honestly, any conversation was better than those memories. “Probably? I just don’t know what to tell him.” Peter fiddled nervously with his pajama shirt, “But what if he thinks I’m useless now? I’ve tried really hard to prove myself, that I can, you know, handle this whole superhero thing.”

 

He tacked on quietly, “What if…he doesn’t want Spider-Man to be part of his team anymore?”

 

The “what if he doesn’t want me around anymore?” was left unspoken.

 

May’s laughter surprised him, “Oh, honey. He would never think that.”

 

Peter shrugged. “He might.”

 

“No, that would never happen.” May’s tone brooked no argument. “I’m serious, Peter. Listen to me.” May sat down next to him on the floor, grabbed both of his hands, almost forcing him to look at her, “Ok. Do you know what I see when I look at you?” Peter shook his head. “A young man who is so full of heart and loyalty and kindness. Someone who is good. And I’m so proud to have been here to see you grow up.”

 

Peter’s eyes started to prickle, and May pulled him into a hug. “If the man has any sense at all that’s what he sees too.”

 

“Yeah, but---” Peter tried, leaning back so he could look his aunt in the face.

 

“I might have had my misgivings at the start but the Tony Stark we’ve both gotten to know would never think you were anything less than worthy.” May paused, pursing her lips in thought, “And if he does? I’ll just have to kick his ass.”

 

Peter barked out an incredulous laugh. “May!”

 

“What? You think I’m kidding? I can definitely kick his ass. I can probably get Pepper in on it too. Maybe even Happy.”

 

Tears were now streaming down his face, and he couldn’t stop giggling.

 

May stood up, brushing dust from her knees. She reached out and ruffled Peter’s hair, “It’s always going to be me and you, kiddo.”

 

“I know.” Peter smiled.

 

“Well, now that that’s sorted. Time for school.”

 

She held out her hand to help Peter to his feet. Even though they both knew he didn’t really need the help. But while it was unnecessary, it never failed to make Peter smile.

 

So, yeah. He grabbed her hand and let her pull him to his feet. There were some things Peter wished would never change. His easy relationship with May was near the top. She had always been his rock, the person who had always had his back. If he had any say, it would always be that way.

 

\--- 

 

“I think my brain might be melting. Could someone please check my ears?” These were the words Peter was greeted with when he said, “Hey, guys.”

 

Lunch period had just started, and like usual, Peter shuffled into the seat next to Ned. MJ was already seated, nose buried in a book. Without taking her eyes off the words in front of her she said, “If your brain was melting, you’d already be dead.”

 

The only reply Ned seemed able to muster was a pitiful sounding moan.

 

“What’s wrong with him?” Peter asked, looking at his dejected friend.

 

“Not sure,” MJ replied as she flipped a page, most of her attention still focused on her book.

 

Peter chuckled to himself. Apparently, neither of his friends were feeling particularly talkative today. He busied himself looking around the cafeteria, eyes weaving around the room, lost in thought.

 

Peter kind of loved school, he always had. Actually, scratch that, what Peter loved was learning. And since that was what you were expected to do at school, he by default loved school.

 

“Penis Parker!” he heard yelled across the room.

 

A sigh was the only response Peter could muster at that. Of one thing he was sure, school would definitely be less tiring if Flash would just stop acting like such a dick. He would have thought that Flash would lose interest eventually, find something else to focus his energy on. Who knew, maybe then they might even be friends. However improbable that sounded.

 

The irony of Flash loving Spider-Man was not lost on him. Especially, when it seemed as if he couldn’t stand Peter Parker.

 

Peter shrugged off this thought, and instead he poked at the lunch in front of him. Now, Peter wasn’t really a picky eater, he couldn’t be with the disasters his aunt sometimes managed to cook up, but the pizza on his tray was looking decidedly more than a little bit soggy. He poked at it again. Yes, definitely soggier than was advisable for a pizza to be.

 

He sighed again. This time it had nothing to do with Flash and everything to do with his lunch. Peter just had to accept that this was just another day in a long line of days of questionable looking school lunches. Peter was sure he could forgive a lot of things, but he wasn’t sure he could ever truly accept soggy pizza. The whole thing was just kind of sad.

 

\--- 

 

The rest of the school day passed uneventfully. Peter still had no idea what was wrong with Ned, but he was fairly certain his friend would eventually tell him, so for now, he wasn’t going to push.

 

After the last bell rang, Peter made his way to his locker. It was Friday, and the air was almost buzzing with excitement for the upcoming weekend. Summer break started soon but any break, even weekends, were welcome. He wrestled the books he didn’t need into his locker, digging out the ones he did need, and swung his bag onto his back.

 

Being Spider-Man had obviously changed Peter’s life in many ways but the one thing he was continuously surprised by was how easy it was to carry his backpack nowadays. He could still remember his life before, when a bag filled to the brim with books and his schoolwork would almost topple him. How things had changed.

 

As he began to make his way out of the school, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He fished it out, a new message from Happy lighting up the screen.

 

Happy: _Picking you up after school. Car waiting out front._

 

Peter grinned at his phone.

 

Before he could answer Happy, another text notification popped up, this time from Tony, and Peter clicked on it. When he read it, he almost wish he hadn’t.

 

Tony: _Hope you don’t mind, sent Harley with Happy. The kid was bored and antsy and getting on my nerves so I figured it would be nice for him to spend some time with someone his age._

 

Peter stopped abruptly. Harley was going to be there?

 

People kept bumping into Peter where he stood in the middle of the hallway, but he barely noticed. He could only focus on his accelerated heartbeat and the way his mind was just kind of repeating the same two words over and over again in a sort of high pitched wail.

 

_Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no._

_Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no._

 

Someone shook his shoulder, and Peter spun around to stare at them, eyes wild.

 

Ned took a step back, holding both his hands up in a placating manner, “Woah!”

 

“Ned?”  

 

“You ok?” Ned asked, apprehensively.

 

Peter shook his head.

 

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” Ned cajoled.

 

Peter once again shook his head. On some level, one that wasn’t freaking out, Peter remembered that this question was the same one he had wanted to ask Ned several hours ago.

 

Ned scratched his head and said slowly, “I mean…I could guess…”, he paused, tacking on an uncertain, “I guess?”

 

Peter nodded, albeit reluctantly.

 

“So, it’s not something you want to talk about?” The immediate shake made Ned laugh, “Ok, got it. Let me see.” He tapped his chin with his index finger, eyes on the ceiling, mumbling to himself, “Let’s see, let’s see. What does Peter not want to talk about? Hm. Well, it can’t have anything to do with May or Mr. Stark, he’d look panicked and not flustered if something had happened to them. And it’s not me because I’m right here, and I just saw MJ…” Ned continued to mumble to himself.

 

Suddenly, Ned’s eyes lit up, and a smirk overtook his face, “I got it.”

 

Peter groaned. He should have just snuck out the back entrance when he had the chance.

 

“You’re freaking out about that boy, aren’t you?” Ned asked, grinning. “What was his name again?” Ned pretended to think, “Harley?”

 

Peter opened his mouth to reply but didn’t manage to get out a word before MJ interrupted with a loud, “What about Harley?” It almost seemed as if she had popped up behind Peter out of nowhere.

 

Peter jumped, hushing her, barely getting out a strangled, “Keep your voice down!”

 

MJ looked around at the deserted hallway and then back at Peter, “There’s no one here.”

 

Peter looked around too, and yes, while she was technically right, there could have been someone there, lurking, and he told her so. MJ’s only reply to that was to roll her eyes.

 

“Come on!” Ned interrupted, “Spill!” Apparently, patience was not something either Ned or MJ possessed at the moment, as they both expectantly stared him down.

 

“It seems he’s waiting with Happy outside school?” was all Peter managed to get out.

 

Both Ned and MJ looked more amused at this than Peter really thought the admission called for. They suddenly looked at each other, nodded, and then took off towards the front entrance. Peter stared after them, mouth hanging open.

 

It took a couple of seconds before his brain seemed to reboot and then…

 

Oh God no, he thought.

 

Peter started running.

 

Today was not going to be the day that his best friends embarrassed him in front of a cute boy. It just wasn’t. Not if Peter had anything to say about it.

 

\--- 

 

How Peter had ended up in this particular situation, well, even he wasn’t sure how it had gone down, and he’d been there. One second he had been chasing his friends down the hallway, the next, he was sitting in the back of Happy’s car, in the middle seat, squished in between a smiling Ned, who was quite frankly making Peter a little bit nervous, and a very warm Harley. MJ was riding shotgun because of course she was.

 

Peter kept stealing glances at the other boy from the corner of his eye. His arm was pressed up against Harley’s arm. He was so close to him and yet he felt like he was a million miles away.

 

Never in his life before had he been this tongue-tied around someone. And it wasn’t only that, Peter also had no idea what to even say to him for fear of sounding stupid or nervous or just…Peter wasn’t even sure what, he just knew he didn’t want to sound it.

 

He still shuddered whenever he remembered the last time they’d met. Peter had barely been able to look at him head on, directing all his conversation at Mr. Stark. Obviously, he realized had been very rude but at the moment, Peter didn’t really have a better solution. There was no plan B or C because there was no plan A to begin with.

 

Here he was, sitting next to this shining, fascinating, intelligent, beautiful boy and Peter, well, he didn’t feel like he could measure up to that. Wasn’t really sure what he had to offer. Sure, he was pretty smart and funny, and yeah, he was Spider-Man. But there was really no way for his intelligence or wit to be put on display if he couldn’t even get any words out, and he, for obvious reasons, couldn’t tell him about the Spider-Man thing.

 

Peter sighed. The whole thing was just hopeless. Because what could the other boy possibly see in him?

 

Peter, however, had no way of knowing that the calm façade Harley was putting on was just that. A façade. And that underneath the lazy smile that Harley was sporting he was anything but calm. Peter couldn’t know that from the moment Harley had spotted him exiting the school, the other boy’s palms had been sweating or that in his head was desperately trying to think of different conversation starters. There was no way for Peter to know that Harley was just as nervous as him at their close proximity. That his heart also beat just a little bit faster at the warmth radiating off of Peter.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is my birthday, so it felt fitting to post. Hopefully, you like this next part <3


	6. Chapter 6

Unbelievable. That was really the only way to describe this. Today was meant to be the official start of Operation Two to Tango, or in other words: get Peter and Harley to talk to each other. A feat which had proved more difficult than Tony would have ever guessed. He wasn’t sure how he’d been saddled with the two most stubborn protégées ever to walk the Earth but somehow it had happened. He could only guess he’d done something truly appalling to piss someone off in a past life that they would still hold a grudge. Plenty of people had grudges when it came to him now, why wouldn’t a past life be the same?

 

“I had a plan and everything!” His voice sounded bitter even to his own ears.

 

Happy rolled his eyes and scoffed.

 

“Don’t hate on my plan! You don’t even know what I was going to do!” Tony rounded on him, glaring.

 

Usually, outburst like this would merit some type of reply, more often than not a very snarky reply. However, that was not happening today.

 

“What’s going on?” Tony muttered, leaning closer to Happy so that only he would hear.

 

When there was no reply, Tony turned to his friend, examining him. Happy shuffled self-consciously, face scrunched up in an expression that seemed to say, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

 

Tony waited another couple of seconds, “Let me rephrase that. Why is it that I now have double the number of teenagers in my living room than I was expecting?”

 

“You see…” Happy began, before falling silent. He seemed at a loss for words, which in turn just made Tony all the more curious.

 

Tony beckoned for him to continue.

 

Happy’s brow furrowed.

 

“It all happened very fast.” He said. His eyes were a little glazed.

 

Tony nodded in response. He too had experience dealing with the teenagers and knew exactly how they could be.

 

Tony waited, looking at Happy, expecting more of…something.

 

“And what happened exactly?” Tony asked, when it became apparent that Happy wasn’t going to say more on the subject. “You’re not really giving me a lot to work with.”

 

Happy gave a mumbled reply. Tony, pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes closed, inhaled and exhaled slowly.

 

“I know we’re talking in hushed voices so they can’t hear us, but you need to speak louder.”

 

“Fine,” Happy grumbled.

 

Still, he was quiet. Unnervingly so. See, Happy often had the same problem Tony had, which was not knowing when to shut up. An inability to leave things be when they thought that other people where wrong, though perhaps this specific scenario applied to Tony more than it did to Happy. Happy’s inability to leave things be where instead focused on anyone and anything he thought looked suspicious. And Happy thought a lot of things were suspicious. Obviously, Tony struggled more with keeping his mouth shut but Happy had gotten himself into more than a few…situations, where it would have been advisable to just be quiet.

 

He glanced over at the teens. It didn’t look to him as if they were paying any attention at all to either Happy or himself. Instead, they seemed to be talking amongst themselves. Well, some of them where. Harley was directing all of his attention at Peter, hardly seeming to blink. Tony grimaced, mentally reminding himself that maybe he should talk to him about being a little bit less intense. Or at the very least blink. Peter, however, appeared to be looking at anything and everything that wasn’t Harley, his eyes flickering around the room. Second note to self, he should probably also talk to Peter about whatever that whole thing was about. This whole enterprise was doomed to fail and would go nowhere if he was too shy or embarrassed to even look at Harley. Ned and MJ were left to bear the brunt of the conversation, with Harley occasionally chiming in with something. Peter had yet to speak a full sentence.

 

These kids might be the death of him. It was official, he needed backup. Whatever plans he thought he’d had; well they were now being thrown out the window. The whole situation was a mess. Evidently, he would need to rethink the whole approach.

 

That still left Happy, who was still acting odd. What to do about that?

 

“We could go into the other room?” Tony finally settled on, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder for good measure, gesturing to the hallway of rooms behind him. All of the rooms on this floor on the building should be empty. And if they weren’t, well, he owned the building, didn’t he?

 

Once in the room, he shut the door. Hopefully, that would be enough to discourage any potential eavesdroppers. Better to be safe than sorry, even if Tony highly doubted that any of the four teens would even notice they’d left the room.

 

But before Tony could even get one word out, Happy had rounded on him, near shouting, “Ok! They know! Are you happy?” His face was very red.

 

“Ecstatic!” Tony exclaimed, though admittedly somewhat confused. “What do they know about?”

 

“About, you know…the thing. The secret thing.” The way Happy said the word secret would normally have made Tony laugh, or at the very least, crack a smile. Right now, however, all he could focus on was how needlessly frustrating this conversation was turning out to be.

 

“I can’t help but feel like you’re being vague on purpose, thinking I know what you’re talking about. But let me just spell it out for you.” Tony said, enunciating every word, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Tony was pretty sure his exasperation was shining through because finally, finally, Happy opened his mouth to speak.

 

“They know about…” Good God, Tony mused, this was like pulling teeth, “…May.” The last part was almost a whisper.

 

“Oh.” Tony replied, dumbly.

 

It seemed that Pepper had won the bet. Or maybe calling it a bet was a little much. After all, nobody would win anything more than the satisfaction of being right. And Tony had been so sure she was wrong when she’d brought it up. May hadn’t really struck him as Happy’s type but maybe he didn’t know his friend anymore as well as he thought. The resulting pang of guilt was unwelcome. He rubbed at his chest, where the arc reactor had once been. It didn’t hurt anymore, of course, how could it when he’d removed the shrapnel and didn’t need it to keep him alive. Didn’t need it to be attached to him. But there was a lingering ache that never quite had gone away, that flared when he felt something strongly. Especially guilt. Always with the guilt. When was he ever going to be free from that? He couldn’t even think about Roger’s these days without feeling like he was being buried under some mountain. Or Nat. Or any of them.

 

Thankfully, it didn’t hurt to think about Rhodey so much anymore.

 

Still, he really wished life could just be simpler.

 

“Yeah.” Happy said, face glum. He must have really let this whole being a part of the Avenger’s thing take over his life if he was missing things like this. Before, even boozed up and depressed, he never would have missed Happy having a crush on someone. The man was so obvious with his tells, the nervous laughter almost always being a dead giveaway.

 

Comforting actions, while not something Tony was incapable of, had for a long time for him carried an air of awkward about them. He was never sure he was doing the right thing. Because, what was really the right thing to say to someone? And for that matter, what did one do with their hands?

 

Tony Stark didn’t technically need blueprints to construct machinery. Sure, they helped but they weren’t strictly necessary. After all, he had all the information he needed in his head. After all, he wasn’t a genius for nothing. However, sometimes he couldn’t help but wish that there was a comprehensive handbook that outlined the do’s and don’ts of how to provide comfort. And while he wasn’t a hopeless case by any means, but more often than not, Tony knew that he wasn’t reacting like he should.

 

He could see it in their eyes.

 

Maybe if he ever got really desperate, he’d ask Pepper to look into it. The days of Pepper being his secretary were long gone but there were some things Tony knew he’d only ever ask her to help with. She was the rock, his constant. She would never lead him wrong or make him feel weak. And since he wasn’t feeling desperate yet, he was going to not worry about it and keep doing this thing solo.

 

So, confronted with a sad Happy, the only thing he could think to do was grab his shoulder and squeeze it. He must have done something right because Happy exhaled shakily, a small smile tugging at his lips.

 

“I’m just not ready for her to know.”

 

Tony nodded.  

 

He understood all too well.

 

There were a lot of things he didn’t want people to know either. Secrets that ran so deep, sometimes, even he wasn’t sure who they were secrets from anymore.

 

Tony clapped him on the back, but this time it wasn’t an act of comfort, instead it was as if to say, ‘I’ve got your back’.

 

“So, they pulled the old emotional blackmail trick, eh?” He grinned at Happy, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “The only way forward is to get even.”

 

This time, Happy laughed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today has been a good day. Something I was feeling really unsure about went really well and for once it payed off to be a little braver than normal. I hope that everyone is having an equally great day and that things are going your way.  
>   
> Also wanted to take a moment to say thank you to anyone who has either left a kudos or commented or even just read this. You all continue to make my day <3


	7. Chapter 7

“I hate you.”

 

“I’m sure you do.” Tony replied evenly. His tone was calm. Too calm. Harley cast a sideways glance at him, and as if he knew he was being watched, a smirk spread across Tony’s face, before he hurriedly tried to school his expression, taking care to try and mask his amusement. He was unsuccessful.

 

“You think I’m being stupid, don’t you?” Harley asked, nose wrinkled in disgust. He, for one, thought he was being very stupid.

 

“Didn’t say that.” Obviously, this had to be a lie, Harley thought.

 

Tony prodded at the pile on the floor with his foot, “And there is nothing salvageable in this pile, I assume?”

 

Harley sighed. “That’s _why_ it’s on the floor.” He said, putting extra emphasis on the word why.

 

Tony simply shrugged in reply. Both of them where now starring at the contents of the wardrobe.

 

For several long minutes, neither of them said a word.

 

“This was a mistake. If you’re not going to help, then get out.” Harley said.

 

The smirk made a reappearance.

 

“Don’t laugh at me. You’re not helping.” Harley said flatly. Starting an argument with potentially the most stubborn person he’d ever met was, after all, an exercise in futility.

 

“Keep telling yourself that, kid.” Tony said, enigmatically, waggling his eyebrows. Harley wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean but at the moment he really didn’t care enough to ask. Tony flashed him a bright smile, gave him a thumbs up, and then he was gone, throwing a lazy wave over his shoulder.

 

Harley stared after him. Sometimes, Tony was incredibly unhelpful. Not that Harley had expected much to be honest, or even asked him for help to begin with. No, Tony had simply showed up. He had come sauntering into his room looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world, taking one look at the frazzled expression on Harley’s face before offering up his services. To help him look less fashionably tragic and more like he knew what he was doing or something, was what he’d said.

 

Harley, having no idea what he was doing, had simply given him a small nod in reply. He’d been close to having a complete meltdown, so it couldn’t really hurt to accept help, right?

 

Ha, how wrong and naïve he’d been. Now, he’d gotten no help and had essentially wasted half an hour.

 

For a while now, Harley’s gut had told him that Tony was up to something. What it was, he had no idea. It was driving him just a little insane that he couldn’t figure out what it was that was raising his hackles. Harley liked figuring things out, it was generally what he was good at. It was getting really frustrating.

 

Gritting his teeth, Harley chose to put his focus back on the closet. He had after all, not made any progress in figuring out Tony’s plans up until now, so he might as well spend his time more productively. He examined the shirts still hanging there with a critical eye, ignoring the pile of discarded clothing on the floor. Nothing there was suddenly going to magically make the cut when he’d already looked them over. There was a reason they were on the floor, and not still in the closet, trapped in a never-ending staring contest with him.

 

There had to be something he wasn’t thinking of.

 

However, the longer he stood there, staring fixedly at oil stained t-shirts, and washed out and faded band t-shirts, and oil stained, washed out and faded band t-shirts, the more certain he became. He was doomed. In fact, he was quite literally going to crash and burn, and for some reason, to avoid this outcome hinged on picking the right outfit. Which logically didn’t make any sense to Harley. But for some reason he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that it was important.

 

He’d never cared about this type of thing before, not really. Maybe in passing every now and then, because everyone does at some point, but never concretely enough to actually do anything about it. He generally had a more practical approach to choosing his clothes because there was always something more important to do that required his attention, and clothes wasn’t especially high on the list of important things. Everything from helping his mom and sister to homework to his part-time job to tinkering with his inventions always took precedence.

 

But suddenly, everything had been turned on its head. Now, a lot of his attention was on Peter. And he didn’t want him to think he was a slob. Hence, why his choice of clothes suddenly mattered in a way it never had before. They’d already met several times, and Harley was sure he hadn’t made the best impression any of those times. Hell, they hadn’t even really talked to each other, even though he was dying to. If he could just have the chance to talk to him, Harley was sure he could charm him. Well, 80% sure. Ok, maybe 55 % was more realistic. But in his mind, it wasn’t like he had much else going for him.

 

He looked at himself in the mirror, taking in the image that was reflecting back at him. He looked very tired, he thought, scrutinizing the bags under his eyes. He chuckled, but it sounded off, the way that it was tinged with a despairing note of panic audible even to his own ears. A steady stream of sleepless nights would do that to a person, he reasoned with himself. Just this week, he’d stayed up tinkering long into the night almost every night. Tony, of course, was no better most of the time and rarely told him off for adopting his mentor’s bad habits. In a lot of ways, Harley thought they were rather similar. Which is why he figured they got along well.

 

Theirs had always been a companionable silence, and they could quite literally spend hours in the same room without uttering a single word to one another. That’s not to say they couldn’t also sometimes spend hours discussing all sorts of inconceivable ideas for inventions they had or car models and engines or what really was the best way to eat pizza or their favorite bands or really whatever thoughts popped into their brains. But they never felt forced to fill the silence, and had, what others had dubbed, an uncanny way of knowing what the other was thinking. When they got into the zone, it was almost as if they were operating on the same wavelength.

 

Yes, Tony Stark was and always would be a certifiable genius and smarter than Harley could ever dream of being, but, and it was an important but, if there was one thing Harley was rather confident in, it was his intelligence. Early on, he had realized it wouldn’t get him anywhere trying to live up to the impossible shadow cast by Tony, but he’d reasoned there was a lot he could learn from the man. And learn he had. Meeting Tony Stark had opened up a whole new world of amazing possibilities. He was the closest thing to a father figure Harley had ever had, and he would always be grateful for that. Even if Tony did have some rather bad habits.

 

Only one day that last week had been spent away from the lab, where they had been holed up for several days working away on their own things. Harley had been drawing up some ideas that he wanted to run by Tony about the Spider-Man suit, features he thought might be useful. He was well aware that Tony actually letting him add any of his ideas to the suit was a pipe dream and a long shot. Who knows, he might not even end up showing him any of it. Yet, Harley couldn’t help but be cautiously optimistic about his chances.

 

Tony, on the other hand, had sat hunched over his desk, brow furrowed in concentration. Harley had tried to pry but Tony had been suspiciously tightlipped about the whole thing, so eventually he’d given up asking. But, from what Harley had seen, it seemed as if he was working on some sort of device. Several small devices in fact. He had no idea what they were supposed to be, but knowing Tony, undoubtedly something really cool. From the brief glimpses he’d managed to sneak, Harley could have sworn that one of the devices looked suspiciously like a tiny hammer while another one was red and from a distance greatly resembled an hourglass. Every time Tony had caught him looking, Harley had quickly glanced away. Obviously, Tony didn’t want him to know, so he pretended that he was completely consumed by what was on the table in front of him. And while Tony hadn’t started shielding the devices from view, what use was that when Harley had already seen enough, every time, he had resumed the fiddly work with a look on his face that Harley at first couldn’t place. It wasn’t until much later that he’d come to realize that it had been embarrassment.

 

In the end, the only reason they had surfaced from the lab and ventured into the real world had been because of Pepper’s persistence. Apparently, it was important to get them to breathe fresh air as well as eat a proper meal, one that wasn’t fast food. Pepper had been very adamant about that last part. They needed to eat more vegetables and also drink more water. She’d even gone as far as to threaten calling Rhodey. At that, Tony had visibly paled. Harley wasn’t sure why, as the man had never seemed very frightening to him but hadn’t questioned the way Tony had suddenly complied. Instead, he’d filed the information away. He was sure he’d find out eventually. He usually did.

 

Now, however, the only thing that occupied Harley’s mind was what he was going to wear. With distance, this would probably be one of those moments that he’d look back on and find funny.

 

Right now, though? It was about as far from funny as it could be.

 

Because as much as he didn’t want to admit it, even to himself, he didn’t see how Peter could possible like him if all he saw was the exterior. More often than not, Harley was a disheveled mess who had a tendency to pull on whatever items of clothing were closest to him. He was well aware that for him to even stand a chance, he needed to show Peter that he was more than his messy outside. Show him that he was a person worth knowing because of his personality, which sounded like bullshit even in the privacy of his own thoughts. But if he was rolling with this logic, and he didn’t see how he could really do much of anything else, he shouldn’t be so worked up about choosing a shirt. If personality was the important factor, then reasonably, his choice of shirt shouldn’t matter. Right?

 

Then again, who was he trying to kid? Himself? Of course, he wanted Peter to think he looked good. Or at the very least, acceptable. Not that this seemed a very likely thing to happen. Peter had after all already witnessed what he usually looked like. Resigned to his fate, he pulled out what appeared to be a reasonably clean shirt, but more importantly, one that didn’t have any holes in it.

 

He sighed. It would have to do.

 

\---

 

Harley was smiling nervously at Peter, not that the other boy seemed to notice as he was too preoccupied staring at his shoes.

 

This was not going according to plan. If anything, it had veered off course in quite a dramatic fashion. Because Harley wasn’t alone with Peter as he’d expected. No. Peter was once again flanked by his two best friends, and while Harley was sure they were both great, he couldn’t help but wish that they weren’t there.

 

Tony was also being supremely unhelpful, off in some corner whispering with Happy. Tony was supposed to be his pal, his support, but Harley had instead been cruelly abandoned. And now, instead of Tony helping him make small talk with Peter (not that Harley had expressly asked Tony for help or anything, but he’d figured that the conversation might flow more freely if someone who knew them both was present), he was faced with a Peter that hadn’t said more to him than a squeaky hi. Ned and MJ, on the other hand, were wearing matching smirks on their faces. Smirks laced with an undertone of steel.

 

It wasn’t only their shared expression that unnerved him, they had also taken to asking him increasingly bizarre questions about the most random things. If Harley didn’t know better, it almost felt as if he was being interrogated. They’d started out with normal enough questions, asked about his family, which was a neutral, safe subject, and how he’d met Tony, which wasn’t common knowledge and kind of an exciting tale and was usually a story Harley delighted in telling. Today was not that day. He had however noticed that Peter had perked up a little when he told them an abridged version of the events that had led to him meeting Tony.

 

It had gradually veered into very strange territory as the pleasantries had been dealt with. Harley couldn’t be sure, but to him it almost sounded as if they were asking him if his dad might potentially be a supervillain or end up as one if pushed.

 

Harley could only hope his mouth hadn’t fallen open in surprise, as he was sure that wouldn’t make for a very attractive expression.  

 

And while he was still trying to make a good impression if it was the last thing he did, goddammit, Harley had to admit he was stumped. Because what? At first, he’d thought that maybe he’d heard them wrong but a quick glance at Peter had confirmed in Harley’s mind that he’d heard them right. Peter’s ears had turned bright red, as if embarrassed by his friends’ sudden change in topic.

 

Harley was quiet for a moment, trying to think of something to say. Anything.

 

He thought about the father he hadn’t seen in a very long time now. Supervillain? That guy? He highly doubted it. His dad had been good for nothing then, and Harley was sure nothing had changed since he’d last seen him.

 

“Highly doubt that.” Harley repeated to his waiting audience, who looked very interested in what his answer would be.

 

“Are you sure?” MJ questioned him, her voice a little more skeptical than Harley thought was called for.

 

“Because you can’t be too sure.” Ned said, looking like he wanted to add more but didn’t at a scathing look from Peter.

 

“Pretty sure, yeah.” Harley was starting to get just a little bit irritated. What were they playing at? Were they even being serious? Honestly, he really couldn’t tell.

 

But more than anything, he wished they’d stop asking about his dad. That man had made his choice all those years ago, and Harley had made his peace with that, but it didn’t mean that Harley couldn’t still vividly remember the crushing despair he’d felt when he’d realized his dad was never coming home again.

 

Thankfully, before the conversation could continue, Tony had interrupted, asking about dinner. And it was good he had because Harley wasn't sure how much longer he would have been able to refrain from snapping at them, good impression be damned.

 

\--- 

 

Later that night, however, as he lay in his bed trying to fall asleep, his mind once more returned to the weird conversation from before. He felt like he’d been given a piece to a puzzle, but he had yet to see the picture he was supposed to be making. His dad? A supervillain? While the idea was ludicrous, Harley couldn’t help but wonder what had prompted that specific line of questioning in the first place. And why had they had been so keen to hear his reply?

 

His mind was buzzing, turning the puzzle piece over and over in his head. The little piece of information he had wasn’t making any sort of sense but for some reason he was sure that it should make sense. Or at least that it would in the end. If he could only find the right place to put it.

 

It took Harley a long time to fall asleep that night. But it wasn’t only strange questions that kept him up. No, another part of his mind was completely focused on a fact that set off the butterflies in his stomach every time he thought about it.

 

He had Peter Parker’s phone number.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time always seems to pass faster than I can keep up with. Sorry for the later than I would have liked update. 
> 
> And once again, thank you to anyone who is reading this. I'm very grateful and happy that even one person is taking the time to read this, let alone everyone that has left kudos and commented.


	8. Chapter 8

The elevator ride down the tower was a silent affair. As the car travelled steadily downwards, past floors of apartments where the other Avengers had apartments of their own, past the laboratories and the gym, Peter was staring resolutely at a point on the elevator’s metal doors, his lips pressed into a thin line.

 

He would not speak first.

 

Ned and MJ were exchanging apprehensive glances.

 

Peter didn’t often get angry or irritated, which was very lucky for those around him as he had a tendency to be very stubborn about things, and nobody wanted to wake that particular proverbial bear. An uncomfortable silence filled the enclosed space, and trapped in an elevator as they were, there was no way of escaping it.

 

Neither Ned or MJ seemed willing to break the silence, and Peter could feel, rather than see, the heated argument they were having, somehow effectively communicating with forceful hand movements cutting through the air. Normally, Peter would have been impressed but any positive feelings he might have had about his two best friends were being sidetracked by the overpowering indignation coursing through him.

 

Eventually, it was Ned that spoke.

 

“Come on, Peter. We were just trying to help.”

 

Peter didn’t acknowledge him. Excuses weren’t going to work.

 

“Peteeeeer.” Ned poked him in the arm.

 

Whining definitely wouldn’t work.

 

MJ sighed.

 

“Cut the crap, Peter.” She said, her tone firm, brokering no argument from Peter.

 

Carefully, Peter raised his eyes to meet her steady gaze. She was staring back at him, an unspoken challenge in her eyes. Peter, sucker that he was, couldn’t hold back on commenting, “You guys didn’t have to scare him off.”

 

They both snorted at that, and MJ even mumbled, “Fat chance of that happening.”

 

Peter ignored her.

 

“And he looked really uncomfortable.”

 

“I don’t care.” MJ replied, shrugging unapologetically. It was short, concise, containing no useless platitudes or flattery. Her straightforwardness was one of the things Peter liked best about MJ, even if it was annoying right now when it was aimed at him.

 

“I know that you don’t want to hear this Peter but better safe than sorry.” Ned said, shrugging apologetically. Because of course he’d side with her.

 

“Wise words to live by.” MJ said. At the approving nod she gave Ned, Peter’s eye twitched.

 

Peter looked between his two friends. Neither of them looking especially remorseful at embarrassing Peter or for the impromptu interrogation of a person who had no idea what was going on.

 

Peter inhaled. Exhaled.

 

They were doing it because they cared for him. They were overprotective because they wanted to protect him. They didn’t want the same fiasco that was his ill-fated crush on Liz to be repeated. They didn’t want Peter to crumble and fall again. They didn’t want someone to quite literally raze a building to the ground and have him be trapped beneath the rubble. Again.

 

He knew all that.

 

And, if he was completely honest with himself, he would be just as protective of them if the roles were reversed.

 

Peter levelled them with a stern look, pointing a finger at them.

 

“Fine, since it seems that whatever I say won’t make you stop, do what you want,” At this they fist bumped in what could only be perceived as a sign of victory, “but I don’t have to like it.” Peter said. He was quiet for a moment, only to then tack on, “And you have to be nicer to him!”

 

Then, Peter ran a hand through his hair, adding in a lower, barely audible voice, “Because, you know, I think I could really like him.” His voice broke a bit at the word like, but he soldiered on. He needed them to understand what he himself barely could. Everything about this was new territory. Harley was something new, he was something…special. Peter couldn’t say how he knew this. It was just a feeling.

 

His cheeks were heating. And the way Ned cooed at him in response did not make the blush disappear, if anything, his face got impossibly redder.

 

Their matching wide grins made it difficult to hold on to his frustration. Afterall, his friends meant well. Even if their approach was…unorthodox. But then again, the whole situation was unorthodox. It wasn’t only because they were his best friends that they wanted to protect him. Him being Spider-Man definitely factored into the equation. It always would. Being Spider-Man was a privilege. It let Peter feel like he was contributing something good to the world, but at the same time it meant that he had more opportunities than the average person to get hurt. And on top of that, the threat to anyone he loved was real if his secret identity was ever to be revealed. So far, he’d been lucky. So incredibly lucky. It would take very little for his carefully crafted reality to come crumbling down around him.

 

This was just their way of making sure that he didn’t have to suffer needlessly. So, while the chance that another crush of his would end up having a supervillain parent seemed unlikely to Peter, he could appreciate that Ned and MJ were just looking out for him.

 

And it wasn’t a one-way street thing. Just because he was the one with superpowers didn’t mean that he was the only one who wanted to protect his friends, who was capable of protecting his friends.

 

Sometimes, it was just difficult to remember that. Ned and MJ were both forces to be reckoned with. They weren’t invincible, they didn’t have powers like Peter, but they were strong and steadfast. And Peter was fortunate that they loved him so fiercely, that they were there to support him when he fell down. Because he’d had a lot of chances to fall, that was sure, but because they were there, vigilant and watching his back, he’d only ever merely stumbled. They were important pillars in his life, along with May and Mr. Stark. His foundation was solid.

 

So, Peter did the only thing he could, the thing he knew he would do from the beginning. He smiled, and he forgave them. Because if there was one thing that he was bad at, it was staying mad at the people he loved.

 

\---

 

Unbeknownst to the elevator’s occupants, or rather, forgetting for a moment that they weren’t completely alone in the relative privacy afforded to them by the elevator’s enclosed space, they forgot that someone could be listening in.

 

That someone was always listening.

 

FRIDAY was attentively filing away the information, as she rather thought it might be useful. She had listened to the boss’ grumbled plans for a number of days now, and quite frankly, while he had good intentions, his plans left much to be desired. From what FRIDAY had observed, Peter and Harley needed more than gentle prodding or ambiguous hints that left room for interpretation. In her opinion, not that she had been asked, they needed indisputable proof. They needed someone to confront their budding feelings for them. Because at the speed they were going, who knew when, or even if, they would ever say anything at all? She’d run the likelihood of it happening, and the numbers weren’t promising.

 

So, FRIDAY had been considering her options. Currently, there was no concrete plan but there was still time. Summer had barely begun. Last case scenario would be to lock them in a closet. This last part was something she’d come across on the internet, but she remained vague on the details of why this tactic would work. She supposed that at the very least, being locked in a closet would make them physically closer. Though she had her doubts that this would actually be helpful. If anything, it might make them too nervous to talk at all. Humans were rather strange sometimes.

 

The elevator doors opened, and the passengers stepped out. FRIDAY watched them go. Much like the boss, she had a soft spot for both Peter Parker and Harley Keener. And if being together was what it took for them to be happy, then she would help make it so.

 

Now, all she needed to do was figure out how to do it.

 

\---

 

For several days, Peter waited. Surely, Harley would text him sooner rather than later? Or, had he completely misunderstood the situation?

 

He really hopes he hadn’t. Maybe going to find the other boy in the kitchen before he’d left hadn’t been his smartest idea. Brave perhaps. Though, bursts of bravery didn’t always work out in his favor. And would fall into the decidedly unsmart category if Harley didn’t actually want his number. The way he’d shoved the piece of paper with his number on into Harley’s hand had played on repeat in his brain. It made him cringe every time. Because, what?

 

Peter clutched at his hair. If he was more concerned with his appearance, he would have been worried about what his hair might look like later. But who had time to care about hair when in the middle of crisis mode? And on top of that, why did everything always have to be so complicated?! Being a teenager was turning out to be more complicated than he’d ever thought when he’d been younger. All the older kids he’d known growing up always looked so cool and put together, like they were gliding through life. Peter was pretty sure he wasn’t particularly cool. And life most certainly was not easy. The thought that maybe he’d just ignored all the unglamorous and uncool bits about teenagers in favor of the good bits flashed through his mind, but he quickly shoved it away.

 

And around in circles his mind went.

 

This was why, when Mr. Stark called him to the workshop to discuss modifications to the suit, Peter had jumped at the distraction. And it wasn’t until he’d arrived at the tower that he realized that it was more than possible that he could run into Harley there. Afterall, he’d already met him once in the lab. And he was staying with Mr. Stark during the summer. He scrambled to remember the brief conversation he’d had with Mr. Stark. What had he said? Was he supposed to come in the suit? Or in normal clothes?

 

It was almost enough to make him leave. It would certainly have been the easier option. And he might have if it hadn’t been for the sudden arrival of one Pepper Potts.

 

“Hello, Peter.” A voice said behind him. Peter swiveled around, guard up, only to immediately drop it again.

 

“Hey, Ms. Potts.” Peter grinned shyly at her.

 

“I’ve told you that Pepper is fine.” Ms. Potts said, though she too was grinning.

 

Mr. Stark had long since tried to stop Peter from calling him Mr. Stark. When he realized that not even bribing would work, he’d pouted like a little kid. He hadn’t admitted defeat outright, that wasn’t something that the great Tony Stark did. No siree. Instead, he’d just recognized that Peter was a hard nut to crack and had called a timeout, as that the normal tactics wouldn’t work on him. Peter wasn’t sure what his new game plan would be, but surely it would be something hilarious. Peter couldn’t wait.

 

Ms. Potts, however, hadn’t gotten the memo, refusing to back down. Now, it had become a sort of running joke between the two, to see who would break first. Peter was sure it wouldn’t be him. The need to be polite was too deeply ingrained in him. Ms. Potts was very persistent though, so Peter figured they might remain at an impasse for the foreseeable future. Possibly forever. Only time would tell.

 

“You here to see Tony?” She asked, distractedly rummaging around for something in her purse. Peter couldn’t look at her head on, instead focusing on the outline of her bag.

 

“Yeah.” The feeling of impending doom was suddenly back.

 

Ms. Potts glanced back at him, “Everything alright?”

 

“Why do you ask?” Peter said, trying to play it cool. The calculating look in Ms. Potts eyes made Peter think that maybe his playing cool tactic wasn’t working so well for him. Of course, she’d notice something was up. Nothing ever passed her by. It was why she was the perfect match for Mr. Stark. That and her no bullshit approach to most things.

 

“Just…nervous, I guess.”

 

Ms. Potts nodded in reply, evidently waiting for him to say more.

 

Peter scanned the lobby. While there weren’t a lot of people milling about, he wasn’t sure this was something he’d like to say within earshot of just anyone. Sure, the tower was very safe but literally anyone had access to the lobby.

 

Before Peter had even opened his mouth to voice this thought, Ms. Potts beat him to it, suggesting that they chat in the elevator instead.

 

Peter breathed a sigh of relief.

 

That he could do.

 

Though he wasn’t sure how much he was willing to reveal to Ms. Potts. Of course, he trusted her. How could he not trust her? She was the type of person who would go to hell and back to protect other people, and while she didn’t have a super suit, she didn’t need one. One moment she would be kind and helpful but cross her, and the switch would flip just like that. She was determined and focused and tough, more than capable of handling any problem thrown at her.

 

Tony Stark was a genius with a habit of running his mouth, chaos wrapped up in a protective suit of armor of his own making.

 

Pepper Potts was steel, an unbending and steadfast force to be reckoned with, hiding behind a decorous expression, just waiting to be unleashed.

 

Together, they were practically unstoppable.

 

So, it wasn’t a trust problem. Peter knew that Ms. Potts would never be anything but trustworthy. If anything, it was a ‘not wanting to feel too vulnerable in front of other people’ type problem. A ‘what if this whole thing is super stupid and I’m blowing it way out of proportion’ type problem.

 

The elevator doors closed behind them. Peter leaned his back against the wall, feeling the vibrations as the car begun its ascent. He wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn that it was moving slower than usual. Peter shook his head. He was probably imagining it.

 

The silence between them stretched. Ms. Potts kept her gaze trained on Peter, and without consciously deciding to speak, Peter blurted, “I met somebody.” He cut himself off, unsure of what to say next. He didn’t really want to say who he was talking about.

 

“A girl?”

 

Peter blushed, casting his eyes downwards, “It’s…a boy, actually.”

 

“I see.” Ms. Potts said, “Is this the first boy you’ve liked?”

 

“No, no. I-I already knew…that I…eh,” He rubbed at his hair, trying to rid himself of the awkward energy surging beneath his skin, “That I like both. So, I’m not having some sort of crisis.” He stopped but confessed, “Well, that’s not strictly true.”

 

He wasn’t freaking out about liking a boy, far from it. But he was freaking out…

 

“What’s seems to be problem then?” Ms. Potts was smiling softly at him. Peter exhaled. Of course, Ms. Potts wouldn’t be weird about it. She was never weird about anything. She always just listened to whatever you had to say, no judgement. He swallowed.

 

“I’m just, you know, worried. Last time it didn’t go so well…” They were both quiet here, both knowing exactly what had happened last time.

 

“I remember,” Ms. Potts said after a beat, “Doesn’t mean it’s going to be the same thing this time. Every new person and relationship will be different.” She reached out and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. Peter looked up at her, his features arranged into a half smile, half grimace. Ms. Potts chuckled at this.

 

“That’s not…” He started, “It’s not all of it.”

 

She didn’t interrupt him, just waited patiently for him to find the words. He was glad she didn’t try to rush him. Peter gulped, unsure of the best way to phrase what he wanted to say. It had been floating around his thoughts for a while, unformed and terrifying. And all he’d been able to do so far was lock the thoughts away in a little box in his mind, one that he didn’t generally dare open. Most of time, he found himself trying to forget it existed at all.

 

But if anyone would understand, it would be Ms. Potts, right?

 

He’d balled his hands into fists at his side, holding so tight that they’d started cramping, but now his hands were compulsively opening and closing. Maybe he was more anxious about this than he’d allowed himself to be.

 

“So, the thing I’ve been thinking about is…” Peter took a steadying breath, the calm before the storm. He opened his mouth, and suddenly, the words just started spewing out of him. It seemed that once he’d started talking, it was like the words couldn’t rush out of him fast enough. An unstoppable avalanche.

 

“The thing I can’t wrap my head around is how to be both Peter Parker and Spider-Man. Because Peter just wants to live a normal life, be with his family, go to college, get a job, fall in love, maybe get married and have a family, but what Peter wants isn’t the only factor in the equation. There’s also Spider-Man, and everything that comes with that. I want all the normal happy things, but I don’t know how to reconcile that with the frankly dangerous lifestyle that comes with the territory of being Spider-Man. And it isn’t just a thing that will be a problem for the moment, no. This will always be a problem. I will always put people in danger just by being who am I, by doing what I know is right. And I know that putting on the suit, being Spider-Man is the right thing to do for me. But I can’t bear the thought of being the reason someone gets hurt. I’m already worried about the people in life. I’m constantly scared that something will happen. And the more people know my identity, the bigger the risk that something will happen. I’m not sure how I could live with that. So, I really don’t know how to go about being in a relationship on top of that. Cause I’d be throwing some poor, unsuspecting person into a lifestyle they never signed up for, danger that they didn’t know about when they first got to know me. It feels like I would be lying to them, only to then maybe eventually drop the Spider-Man bomb in their lap, hoping it all wouldn’t blow up in my face. In their face. It doesn’t seem fair. What if something happens? It would be my fault.” He was breathing heavily, in out, in out, more worked up than he would have thought possible.

 

But Ms. Potts just looked at him throughout his outburst in that steady way of hers, her face not betraying her thoughts. And for a moment, she didn’t say anything, then, “That is a difficult one.”

 

“Right?” Peter breathed out, his face twisting in a self-deprecating way.

 

They smiled faintly at each other.

 

“But,” Ms. Potts continued, Peter’s smile dropped from his face, “You would be robbing yourself of happiness, Peter. Terrible things can happen at any point in time, to anyone, regardless of if you are a superhero or not. The world has always been full of dangerous things and, well, dangerous people. And yes, naturally there are more risks for someone like you, but you also have something that most people could only dream of. The ability to protect those you love. Don’t forget that.”

 

Peter nodded numbly. He thought of Uncle Ben for a moment, only to push the thought away with all his might. This was not the moment to break down.

 

“Take if from someone who’s basically married to one of the most reckless but well-meaning heroes out there,” She said, her words warm, “It’s worth it. Love is worth it. The right person will be worth it.”

 

The elevator dinged.

 

She looked at Peter, “This seems to be your stop.”

 

Peter nodded, the thoughts once again swirling around in his mind. Maybe…

 

“Peter?” Ms. Potts tone was gentle. Peter’s head snapped up.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Don’t worry about it too much. Things will unfold in ways nobody can pretend to predict. Maybe something will happen with this boy, maybe nothing will. Take it one step at a time, see where you end up. Don’t decide what’s going to happen ahead of time. We all deserve love, you very much included. Don’t shut down the potential for future happiness because of fear. Let people make up their own minds. I’m sure the people in your life know that sometimes danger haunts your every step, but they’re still there, no? The most important thing you can do for yourself and them is to trust that they know what they’ve signed up for. Because trust me, we all know the risks.”

 

He blinked at her. He thought of May, of Ned, of MJ. A small smile began spreading again, “I’ll try.”

 

Ms. Potts laughed at this, “That’s all anyone ever really can do.”

 

“Yeah.” Peter exhaled shakily, stepping out of the elevator. He had a lot to think about. The doors began closing behind him, only to open again.

  
  
“Oh, and Peter,” Ms. Potts said, her head sticking out from the elevator, “Please say hi to Tony for me?”

 

Peter grinned at her. That he certainly could do, “Definitely, Ms. Potts!”

 

The doors began closing once more. Ms. Potts waved at him, and the last thing he heard before the doors closed and carried her away was, “Take care of yourself, Peter.”

 

Peter hesitated in front of the door that would take him into Mr. Stark’s lab. His thoughts were jumbled but for once they didn’t look or feel impossible to untangle.

 

It wasn’t often he got the see her since Ms. Potts was usually super busy. But he was glad he’d ran into her today. His talk with her had definitely made him feel a little better about the whole situation.

 

Maybe everything was going to be fine. He typed in the code, stepping back to let the door swing open.

 

Peter couldn’t help but revel in how nice it felt to be hopeful for once.

 

\---

 

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Absentmindedly, he fished it out. When seeing the new message on the screen, Peter couldn’t help but grin.

 

Mr. Stark glanced up at him, tools hovering above the Spider-Man suit, “What’s with the smile, kid?”

 

Peter startled and flushed; but his eyes remained glued to the screen.

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Mr. Stark prodded.

 

Peter gestured for Mr. Stark to be quiet. He could hear Mr. Stark laughing at him, but he paid him no attention. He stared at the words, a little giddy. Harley did want to talk to him. He hadn’t misunderstood or been wrong.

 

(16:45): **Hi. It’s Harley. Keener, that is. Just wanted to say hi.**

 

His phone vibrated again.

 

(16:47): **I said hi tiwce**

 

(16:47): **twice***

 

(16:47): **so**

 

(16:48): **hi**

 

(16:48) **again**

 

Peter laughed to himself, hopelessly smitten by the boy at the other end. It was nice to see that he wasn’t the only awkward one. Of course, he had no idea if Harley had any romantic interest in Peter, but at the very least, maybe they could be friends?

 

Heart beating fast, Peter typed out a reply.

 

(16:49): _Hi_

 

 


End file.
